Page 66 of Nice Guys Don't Kiss Like That At Christmas
“Frank mentioned neither of you would compromise.”
Adam’s jaw tightens.“We both wanted all or nothing back then.She wanted me to drop everything here, I expected her to turn down her dream job.Neither of us saw a middle path.”
He runs a hand through his hair, a gesture so familiar it makes my chest ache.“Dad was recovering from surgery.And he needed help with the administrative side of the clinic, I had a lot of new cases with some young farmers taking over older farms… but those were excuses.The truth is, I fucked it up.”
“What do you mean?”I wince.“You know what?I shouldn’t have asked.It’s none of my business.”
“You can ask, Eve.You can ask all the questions you want.”
I shake my head, glancing around, lowering my voice.“Maybe, but everyone is watching.”
He gives me a smile that should be illegal before noon.Luckily, it’s twelve-thirty.“Right now?I honestly don’t give a damn about anyone else but you.”
The man wants me to fan myself with the bread basket.“Okay, Adam Harrison.How’s Kellan?”There, kind of a safer question.
“Wanting to know if I’m planning on crocheting a dick alien family with you.”
I choke on my coffee.“Alrighty, then.”
Adam tilts his head.“He’s also doing great as an EMT in Swans Cove in Maryland.Totally in love with his high-school sweetheart.But refuses to pull his head out of his ass.”
“Kellan should read more romance novels,” I tell him.“Might learn something about actually talking to the person you’re in love with.”
He raises an eyebrow.“I’ll pass along the recommendation.What about Claire?Still causing her brand of perfect chaos?”
“Still causing trouble in the best ways.”I sip my coffee, trying not to stare at the way his forearms flex as he leans forward.“She may have gotten a viral video of my ex trying to be‘ER McDreamy of the Year’but ended up making a fool of himself.”I can’t help the satisfied smile that creeps onto my face.“He was so mad.That’s how he becameDr.Jerk Du Soleil…”
“I’d like to see that,” Adam says, his voice dropping to that register that sends heat spiraling through me.
And the way he stares at me like he sees me and wants me for breakfast, lunch and dinner has butterflies ice skating figure eights below my ribcage.
Rosie sets my soup and salad down with a knowing smile.“Your usual too, Adam?”
“Please.”
When she leaves, I take another sip of my coffee, acutely aware of the whipped cream that must be on my upper lip.Adam’s gaze tracks the movement, darkening slightly.
“You’ve got a little...”He gestures to his own mouth.
“Where?”I deliberately play dumb, watching his focus narrow.
“Right...”His voice drops, “...there.”
Without thinking, I run my tongue slowly across my upper lip, catching the sweetness.
Adam’s breath audibly catches.“You’re playing with fire, Foster.”
“Am I?”The challenge slips out before I can stop it, fueled by a week of notes and near-misses and dreams that leave me aching.
“You said one night.”His voice is rough now, pitched low enough that only I can hear.“Your rule, not mine.I’m all for changing those rules though…”
I think about his notes.His smiles.Him.
“Maybe I was too quick.”The admission hangs between us, dangerous and thrilling.
Adam leans closer, close enough that our foreheads nearly touch across the small table.The café around us fades into background noise.
“Tell me what you want, Eve.”The intensity in his gaze burns through me.“No notes.No hints.Tell me.”
